


hold on to this pulse against other rhythms

by merewiowing



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: F/F, Healing Magic, No Caps For Aesthetic, Reasonable War-Time Worries About The Safety Of A Loved One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 22:51:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13727685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merewiowing/pseuds/merewiowing
Summary: a battle, a healed wound, and a fear.





	hold on to this pulse against other rhythms

a battle roars around them, and yet, there is no quieter place in all of magvel than here, where l'arachel holds eirika's hand and raises her staff to cure her.

in an instant, stark light envelops her, and bites into her skin where it welds the wounds close and burns off the blood. eirika has long since lost count of how many injuries she suffered and recovered from; the first time moulder healed her, she screamed. today, she only bites her lip and waits for the pain to pass.

the light diminishes, and l'arachel puts the staff down. she doesn't let go of her hand. more than anything, eirika wishes to embrace her, to pull her close and forget where she is for a moment.

they have a promise, a shared hope for a quiet day in renais, many years after the war. on some days, this hope is the only reason eirika finds the strength to lift her sword. how strange it is, that her rapier has grown heavier since she left her home behind.

"does it," eirika ventures, “does it hurt you as well when you're healed? is it different for you, because you are –“

"because i am a holy woman?" l'arachel's lips quirk into a smile. it's thin and exhausted, in a way that she only shows to eirika. "that only extends to my spirit, i'm afraid. my flesh is as vulnerable as yours."

eirika mouths a soft _oh_ , and her gaze falls on the thin white scar under l'arachel's right eye. it wasn't there a few days ago. she was there when natasha healed her, she remembers l'arachel's nails digging into her arm. but l’arachel never screamed when her wounds were closing.

on many evenings, eirika has fallen asleep listening to l'arachel breathe. the sound was fragile, and each time, she wondered if she would hear it again the next day. it took her so long – too long – to earn the closeness they shared, a closeness in which l’arachel trusted her enough to be soft and quiet.

"you wouldn't listen if i asked you to stay away from the front lines, would you?"

l'arachel replies, but eirika only sees her mouth move – a thunder rolls close by, loud like only magic could be. as soon as it began, their stolen moment is over.

l'arachel dusts off her dress and stands, then helps eirika stand as well. (her legs are shaking, she thought this was a thing of the past – ) before she turns away, she leans in, and presses a kiss to eirika’s cheek.

"remember not to die on me," she whispers. it's simple, but eirika can hear the tension underneath. (and yet there is a strange comfort in knowing the fear is shared.)

and then she is gone, as quick as lightning, just as she had appeared when eirika had collapsed. before long, the searing holy light will appear elsewhere, for someone else.  

eirika looks around, shifts on her legs, and readies her rapier. it's almost imperceptible, but it is less heavy than before.

**Author's Note:**

> /drops a ficlet from two months ago into this dead account
> 
> i have no explanations/justifications for this, i miss writing fic but it hasn't been happening for a while now, so i'm glad i liked this enough to crosspost here when i re-read it today. i hope you liked it as well!
> 
> title stolen from _written on the body_ by jeanette winterson, from a lovely quote my friend meg shared with me with this ship in mind.


End file.
